


Just A Touch

by howthemoonsuitsthenightsky



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-19 09:24:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17598605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howthemoonsuitsthenightsky/pseuds/howthemoonsuitsthenightsky
Summary: Lucas sits at the bus stop next to the boy he couldn’t stop staring at (and, let’s be honest, is a bit overwhelmed by it all).





	Just A Touch

Sometimes the simplicity of a touch is underrated. 

Sitting there at the small bus stop, it was all Lucas could think about. When the boy offered him a drag with a casual inclination of his hand, he couldn’t resist the temptation to reach out. He held his forefinger and middle finger slightly apart to take the joint from him, taking a breath to calm the slight shake that had made its way out from his wrist. The soft skin on the back of the boy’s hand grazed Lucas’ fingertips and it cost him everything to withdraw. 

Bringing the paper up to his lips, he let it linger there, knowing that only moments before it had been between the other boy’s lips, between his fingers. Blowing out the smoke from behind his teeth took on a different meaning than it had every other time he had done this. 

Lucas was barely aware of the words that were coming out of their mouths, but seeing a boy next to him smile, he relished in it. Just that simple exposure of enamel, that and the brushing of their skin together, was enough for him.

He allowed himself one more drag, before he knew he would have to give it back over. He hadn’t realised, but he had been anticipating the touch so much. Just before their fingers met, another voice pierced through the night. Lucas’ head turned towards the sound and when he looked back round, the boy had long since taken the joint back; his touch had been so light, so gentle, if they had touched at all, that Lucas wasn’t even aware of it. 

The girl moved to sit in between them. It was their own fault, really, for leaving the space between them. Secretly, Lucas was glad of it, if only so he could clear his head, or at least attempt to. 

The boy’s awkwardness became more apparent as they tried to continue the conversation. When Chloé asked the boy for his name, Lucas was on the edge of zoning out, just to escape the monotony that their voices had taken on. 

Eliott. He had a name now, a name to put to a face, but also a name to put to a touch, a name to put to a smile. 

The boy repeated his name, looking directly at Lucas. Eliott. He gained a name to put to a gaze, a captivating stare that froze the night around them, that made Chloé, that made the bus stop, that made the cold metal seat which was starting to numb his lower half, all disappear. 

Lucas let his palms brush together, bringing the fingers that had touched his, that had touched Eliott’s, to become trapped in the lock of his other hand. He hoped that the other’s perceived it as merely warming his extremities in the cold January air. In fact, he was trying to imprint the touch onto his fingertips and commit it to memory until the opportunity for another touch would come.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little drabble to keep me going before we get more content.


End file.
